


Cradle

by seekingjets



Series: Bad Business [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Humanformers, M/M, Sloppy Makeouts, Workplace Relationship, alcohol use, cybertron - earth au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 04:25:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19288075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekingjets/pseuds/seekingjets
Summary: Chancing upsetting your boss with your inappropriate relationship is not the best way to get out of paperwork.---aka: Starscream pushes, Megatron drags him along.





	Cradle

**Author's Note:**

> Set before Sugarcoating.

\---

 

“Arg! Put me back in my lab - this is torture!” Starscream kicks a heel against the table, leaning back on two chair legs to put distance between himself and his laptop. Across from him Megatron doesn’t react more than wetting his thumb, flickering through the hefty folder in hand. 

“When I do not include you in stock acquisitions prep, you throw a tantrum. When I do. You throw a tantrum.” Megatron glances up, unamused with the same weight of strain in his eyes as Starscream. (though clearly handling it better.) “You can either stay in your lab or stop complaining and do your job.” A light threat, but Starscream had heard it all before. Now frowning, he knew he was clever in ways Megatron wasn’t and was an irreplaceable asset. Safe from the danger of being scruffed and tossed out on his ass. 

Still - being locked in a conference room with a company’s entire history laid out in hard copy, dissecting every quarter of their thirty years of existence, was hardly a good use of said talents. They had Soundwave for this boring stuff! Starscream did his best work with already filtered and organized information.

“It’s nearing eleven.” He reminded, nudging his sleeve back to verify the time by the sleek watch around his wrist. “We’ve been here for over twelve hours and there’s not enough food on the company dime to convince me to stay longer.” Usually if he whined loud enough Megatron gave in just to escape his bitching, but it didn’t seem to be working this time. His employer seemed far too comfortable in the high back chair - dark eyes absorbing page after page of information. There was, after all, so little Megatron enjoyed more than building a campaign against companies deemed valuable and worthy of his attention.

Starscream couldn’t help but wonder how many hours Megatron put into researching him before making a move?

He flicks a paperclip at Megatron’s head and acts as if he could not possibly be the culprit. Megatron rudely continues to ignore him. 

They’re likely to be there all damn night if he doesn’t do something, which might be just fine for his obsessive employer. Nothing he would like more than research and make Starscream suffer. No, he won’t die like this! There has to be some way to distract Megatron. An alternative route of focus or at least something Starscream can use to escape. 

There isn’t as ample opportunity to fake a fire as there are in his labs. (A useful trick when Shockwave gets nosy. The fastest was to induce panic and empty the nest.) It was equally as unfortunate that Megatron knew Starscream’s brothers too well. No chance faking a family emergency might work. If Starscream sent out an S.O.S. to TC, Megatron would probably harass Thundercracker until the truth came out. And while he could convince Skywarp to do a great number of stupid things... TC would step in like a buzzkill if he ask Warp to physically injure himself. Even if it were for the greater good: namely Starscream’s freedom! Ugh. He needed a drink.

…Oh. A drink. Starscream dwells on the thought while expertly manicured nails fold the corner of financial statements.

Nearly a year ago Megatron had so nobly driven him home as winter slush clung to the roads and Starscream had lied about not having his car. His brothers had gone home without him, failing to spare a thought to their brother’s aversion to the season. So standing at the lobby, watching white vindictive clumps of ice fall from the sky, had left him nauseous. Running into his employer had not been planned, but Starscream was caught staring out the windows and allowed Megatron to make his own assumptions. Offering to drive him home without further conversation.

Inviting Megatron upstairs for “a drink” was simply out of curiosity. He wanted to see what his employer would do, or think, regardless of expected appropriate conduct.

Both had been flirting with this tension for sometime at that point. Starscream had long since noted the lingering glances, the warm hand on the small of his back. He’d hoped Megatron was left flustered when Starscream returned the attention. Leaning closer than was necessary during their interactions. Brushing hands down his employer’s chest in the guise of fixing a “crooked tie”. Mouthing his pen during boring seminars or staff meetings just to catch the man watching. Starscream hadn’t expected anything to come out of it. Merely fun for him. A way to break up the drone of a day with a touch of mischief. Something to quietly hold over Megatron’s head. 

But the snow had begun to fall in thicker patterns during their drive to his building and Starscream had gotten lonely at the sight of it.

Months ago he invited Megatron upstairs for a “thank you” drink, and since then they’d been sleeping together at an increasing frequency Starscream could no longer file under “bored curiosity”. 

Of course they never speak of it openly, not even Starscream’s brothers were willing to admit they knew. The office building was “sacred ground”, free from such lewd conversation. No defiling or acknowledgement allowed. That was left to Starscream’s home or overnight business trips. Megatron still bothers to have Soundwave book two suites, knowing Starscream will not be using the second room.

It wasn’t exactly a bad arrangement. Usually sparked by heated conversation (often snarling disagreements) and Megatron’s uncommonly handsome face curling with irritation causing Starscream to decide kissing him would be better than slapping him. Sometimes. 

There were no rules or rhythm to what they did. Either Starscream asked for a ride home, asking Megatron to get a drink with him - or in the case of business trips - Megatron would fall asleep with an arm or a quarter of his heavy body slung over Starscream. Both chilled damp and entangled, making sneaking out unlikely without spraining something to escape. ( _Fucking_ his boss involved a lot of heavy limbs and holding on tight whereas _sleeping_ with him was like trying to wrestle a drunk titan. Starscream had fallen out of the bed twice trying to slip out of Megatron’s steel hold.) 

Back to the moment, Starscream considers his approach. How much trouble would it be risking bringing up their “unspoken activities” at the office? It could blow up in his face, his boss assuming Starscream trying to leverage his responsibilities with sex instead (which he absolutely would be but he didn’t want Megatron to think so). It could trigger Megatron’s famous wrath and send Starscream down a very long road of groveling and scraping back favor with the man. It had taken him a few years to get where he was now even starting in a positive light...

Eh. Either way it got him out of paperwork. Fuck it.

“You know what I need.” Starscream trails the question, delicate and soft. Watching Megatron still refuse to look up from whatever information that he hoped wasn’t more attractive than himself. The heavy brow wrinkled in concentration, graying hair beginning to fade from it’s strict coif. 

“A drink.” He echoes the few times Megatron would recall Starscream inviting such “activity” as his low voice was implying. “Would you like to come upstairs for a drink?” - “I think my suite has that scotch you like.” and so on. Practically Pavlovian at this point. Does his best to look appealing and obvious, easily done for Megatron’s large appetite. Starscream didn’t even have to try too hard to snatch Megatron’s lust half the time, he was almost beginning to suspect his employer _liked him_ almost as much as he liked the feel of Starscream’s hips under hand. (Doubtful. They didn’t really get along but his company was tolerable after a long fuck.)

Back to the bait. Pointed chin resting in palm, pinkie nail running gently down his own lip until Starscream feels his own teeth exposed. Seducing Megatron turned out to be a simple matter of promising to claw down his back in as few words or actions as possible. Starscream thinks, at this point, he might be able to make his employer slip should he begin filing his nails mid-meeting with the times Megatron’s has groaned into Starscream’s throat at blood being drawn down his spine. The hefty body bowing under Starscream’s clutches - practically folding him in half and _growling_ eager sounds into his ear. Really nothing felt as powerful as having the mighty Megatron shudder while inside you...

Starscream is pleased by the immediate response as Megatron looks up to meet his query. Wetting his lips in a casual fashion and watching his employer trying to fortify himself against the obvious display.

“You know I don’t permit alcohol on the premises.” Megatron tries to deflect and Starscream keeps himself from laughing - not that Skywarp doesn’t sell hotel mini bottles out of his desk to the accounting division. Not that Megatron doesn’t already know and has raided Warp’s stash on a bad stock day. Or when law enforcement gets lucky and they lose ground...

“Then let’s go somewhere.” Suggests with polite grace. Hopefully somewhere specific like Starscream’s home where Megatron’s large hands wrap perfectly over his headboard as he’s…

“It’s awfully late for that.” Megatron isn’t stupid (sometimes). It’s clear from his forgotten reports and documents (and the way he’s staring at Starscream’s mouth) that he’s joined the real conversation they’re having. Starscream might just have to push a touch harder - anything to get out of this mind-numbing office work. Really Megatron should be thanking him for his efforts. 

He’s about to recommend a hotel bar they’ve frequented in the past few months. Knows the rooms, knows Megatron likes the soft red bedspread of the expensive suites, when he notices his employer’s expression change. There’s something brewing behind dark eyes and that never bodes well for Starscream. 

Last time Megatron got “a look” Starscream spent a month working in R&D with Shockwave. Resulting in one improved long-range tactical ballistics system and both of them with bruised legs after kicking each other under the table for weeks. When Megatron had a clever idea that usually meant suffering for Starscream.

Abort mission. _Abort._

“I actually know a place.” Suspiciously bright tone for the man, Starscream almost jerks as alarms of self-preservation ring deafening throughout his skull. “It’s not far.” Not far? What does that mean? Starscream’s apartment is “not far” so the fact an alternative location even popped up in Megatron’s skull could only mean danger.

“Sounds wonderful,” Starscream tries to keep the smile but his voice cracks. “But you are right. It is quite late - perhaps I was being too generous with your time.” 

Megatron is rising from his seat, sweeping his blazer where it hung on the back of a chair. His button down strained at the motion of a thick chest as massive shoulders shrugged into the coat, barely containing his obscenely large body. 

Starscream chewed his lip in worry.

“Well, If you would prefer to remain and finish up here.” Megatron keeps that look in his eyes and there’s this terribly (handsome) shitty grin of victory as he mocks Starscream. “But now that you mention it, I could certainly use a drink.” Megatron doesn’t even allow Starscream to stutter or embarrass himself trying to regain control. “Fetch your coat Starscream, it’s a chilly evening.” 

“Of course, Sir…” He grumbles, all but limping to his jacket across the room.

\---

They get as far as the parking structure before they begin to bicker.

“Give me your keys.”

“You’re finally going senile.” Starscream gasps and holds the keys to his chest for safety. “You’re not driving my car.” Megatron’s expression, like his outstretched hand, does not change. In fact for a brief moment Starscream worries he’s frozen with the eerie stillness his employer exhibits. He doesn’t even blink and in a cautious thought, wondering if the man has abruptly died standing up, Starscream reaches across the distance to prod Megatron’s shoulder. “Are you still breathing?” Megatron moves faster than he should, wrapping a thick hand over Starscream’s wrist and yanking him forward with the gentleness of a ripcord. Catching Starscream’s waist with a heavy arm and in moments the Seeker finds himself lifted and flipped. Staring at the moving pavement held aloft in Megatron’s arm.

“Then I supposed we’re walking.” Megatron hums.

“Are you insane?! Put me down!” The struggle of his legs does little, trying to twist to see his boss’ face and hopefully some way out of this. It’s not exactly comfortable, his entire weight pressing down on the belt Megatron’s arm makes around him. “I’m going to be sick.” A poor bluff that doesn’t draw any sympathy and Starscream can see the EXIT sign of the parking garage drawing near. “You really would embarrass us publicly like this wouldn’t you?!”

“I didn’t bring my car and you’re a terrible driver.”

“I’m an amazing driver!” Starscream’s palm aches from the grip on his keys, prepared for Megatron to try to take them by force.

“Pilot. You are an impressive pilot,” Megatron corrects and gives Starscream a small jostle, adjusting his grip on the lighter man. “But you can’t drive for shit.” 

Starscream could let Megatron shame himself without hesitation. It was funny when the man slipped, but there could very well be people outside of the garage, even this late at night. And Megatron was a man of his word. If he said they would be _walking_ somewhere - no doubt in Starscream’s mind he would be carried the whole way.

He usually doesn’t mind being lifted by Megatron, but this certainly is not the time or place.

“Fine!” Admits defeat with a very un-surrendering attempt to kick his employer in the leg. “You can drive!” 

“Glad you came to your senses.” Starscream’s view shifts, carefully turned until his shoes hit the pavement and Starscream shoves Megatron’s ribs to put distance between them, pushing himself backwards instead a few inches. The bastard like a steel wall. “Keys.” Palm outstretched once more, Megatron looking all too smug about it. Starscream has half a mind to throw the damn things across the lot, maybe they’ll fall into a grate and he can make a run for it before Megatron catches up to him.

He must have been taking too long surrendering the keys as Megatron takes one step into his personal space, the difference of their height an intimidating thing. Bowing just at the waist until the dark shadow of jaw comes too near and Starscream flinches.

“I thought you wanted a drink?” He purrs and Starscream is resolute in his decision to kill him one day. “Changing your mind? Shy? The paperwork is still upstairs if you have a change of heart.”

“Oh shut up.” He pushes the keys into Megatron’s chest and a warm weight settles over his knuckles. Looking up to see his hand, lost in the gray fabric of Megatron’s shirt, the man’s massive fist careful where it engulfs Starscream’s hand and the distance thrum of a pulse beneath the silk. His own pulse does a stupid thing and he relaxes under Megatron’s grip. “You know it’s unbecoming of a CEO to use paperwork as threat against a subordinate.” Sniffs, trying to retain some pride while his employer so casually lifts his hand, still full of keys, seeming fascinated with a knuckle.

“And it’s entirely disgraceful of a Division head to use sex as a means to get out of said paperwork.” Starscream frowns as Megatron presses a small kiss to his bent fingers. “Now, stop complaining unless you’d like to change your mind?” There’s long enough of a pause, his tone cautious, that Starscream knows Megatron is truly giving him an out. 

Yes. That would involve paperwork but it’s unfortunate his hold over his employer is not as strong as previously imagined. The idea that Megatron could willingly let Starscream walk out of this arrangement, no questions asked without so much as a word...not even begging for him to stay?

Starscream would like to see what a begging Megatron looked like.

“Lets see this place you’re wanting to show off.” Huffs, slipping his hand out just to watch Megatron catch the keys. Sometimes a decisive surrender is best when you’re outnumbered...and when your target is smiling at you like a cat already having eaten the squirming canary. 

“So glad you’re coming around.” Megatron presses the unlock on Starscream’s keys and the man jumps when the car beside them honks and flickers. 

His eye twitches. Megatron just remains relaxed and watching.

“You weren’t carrying me out of the garage, you were carrying me _to my car_?!”

Megatron looks at the back-end of the car, doing nothing to look less pleased with himself as he moves to the passenger side. Opens the door for Starscream with the grace of a wicked gentleman.

“So it would seem.”

“I hate you.” Starscream twitches, feeling both tricked and so entirely charmed that he’s furious. Certain now that they’re going to sleep together just to hopefully slap Megatron somewhere in the middle of it. His boss never seemed to mind that.

“Hurry up.” 

“If you wreck my car I swear…!!!” Megatron shoves him into the passenger seat and with an unflattering yelp Starscream barely has time to draw his legs in before the door is shut. “You psycho!” He yells and apparently is too obvious, scrambling across the seat trying to lock Megatron out. The man beats him to it, holding the door open with a disappointed look. “What I was...just opening the door for you…”

Shockingly Megatron doesn't believe him.

\---

 

It starts to rain around eleven-thirty, a light drizzle which Starscream pretends doesn’t bother him as he keeps checking his hair with the flat of his hand. Making sure every strand is back in place from being so roughly treated. Megatron doesn’t pay much attention to him after Starscream had laughed for five minutes watching him struggle to adjust the seat for his ridiculous height. Starscream refusing to tell him how until Megatron threatened to break “the damn thing”, leaving Starscream no other choice than to reach over and press the buttons for him.

Half folded over Megatron’s lap he noticed his employer making a face and Starscream only snapped for him “not to get any ideas”. To which Megatron only grinned.

He doubted they could fit in the car’s back seat any how. Attempting so would probably scratch the custom interior and Starscream was not about to explain to a dealership why there were claw marks all over a $140,000 dollar car. 

Megatron, to his credit, didn’t fumble with the steering and Starscream felt himself relax on the drive. Watching the building lights slowly blink out as the hour grew later. The wet, black city speckling in distance and dark clouds - a strange comfort alongside the music he selected matched the engine’s expensive purr. Starscream’s frown growing deeper each time they passed a gold building or familiar street which looked expensive enough for their evening. Megatron hated scratchy sheets and cheap scotch and their options were growing limited the longer they drove.

That was until twenty minutes further into said drive Starscream realized they had gone pretty far from the city major and were heading further south than he was used to.

“I thought you said it wasn’t far, where are we going?” Finally dared to ask, peering out from the rain speckled window trying to gain visual on any familiar structure. Skyscrapers had turned to warehouses and long-dead smoke stacks. Crowded parking lots of toppled cars and scrap metal replaced polished buildings and the hope of clean streets. It wasn’t until he saw a few billboards promoting “civil authority” and “neighborhood safety” that Starscream could guess. “Are you taking me to Kaon?” He accused.

“Not quite.” Megatron corrected. “Kaon proper is thirty minutes further, but the outskirts border Iacon.” 

“Why are we going to Kaon?” He should have never gotten into the car. “What sort of place are you taking me?” It was then Megatron decided to play Starscream’s favorite game of “let’s stop talking” where Megatron went silent and Starscream wanted to tear his hair out. He was tempted to call Thundercracker to come rescue him as knowing Megatron he would not be getting his keys that night, but hesitated. Assuming if he tried to leave Megatron would certainly think less of him.

Not that Megatron thinking less of him was a huge sacrifice, but he was also in the middle of nowhere with an uneasy feeling of being abandoned despite Megatron still sitting next to him in the car. He was both furious and disappointed the night was turning into quite a failure that Starscream began to mourn paperwork. It must have shown (not that he was trying to conceal much) as Megatron reached down to place a hand on Starscream’ thigh as if in comfort.

“Hands on the wheel!” Starscream snapped and pulled his leg away, bitter now and feeling an unwanted sense of panic rising from memories. He had to remind himself that the rain was simply rain. It was late-fall. Not a snowflake in sight. “You take me across town and think you can play grab-ass while driving?” 

“I need you to calm down.” 

“Why should I?” Arms fold cross his chest and he’s not paying attention to Megatron or the car. Too busy alternating between grinding his teeth and chewing his lower lip. Deciding that Megatron is going to have to apologize something fierce if he ever wants inside his bed again. 

“Because we’re here.” A flat and unimpressed tone while Megatron moves to step out and they, indeed, have parked. Tucked close to the curb where a brick building decorated in faded neon lights and graffiti signs stare him down. It’s almost insultingly cheap with the name missing. Just an ominous “ …’s Bar". 

He reconsiders locking the car from the inside before Megatron steps around and opens the passenger door for him. Starscream doesn’t move. “Do you have to always be this impossible?” A touch of exasperation in his deep voice. Scowling down at Starscream with impatience. Good. Suffer. “Do you trust me so little?”

Starscream opens his mouth to answer with something scathing, but hesitates on the reply. Knowing full well he doesn’t _not_ trust Megatron.

Megatron notices.

“Give me one hour. Then I will drive you home.” 

“Five minutes.”

“Forty five minutes.”

“Five minutes.” He repeats.

“And you wonder why I don’t permit you at negotiation tables.” Starscream notices the smallest smile pulling at his employer’s mouth. “Thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes, and you use your senior citizen discount to buy all my drinks.” The smile was very quickly gone but Starscream at least felt better for it.

“Thirty minutes.” Megatron lowered his hand, a theme for the night, to shake on their deal. “And I’ll buy you anything you want inside.” Starscream took his hand and let himself be guided out, having decided whatever mess they find inside the dive bar Starscream was going to walk out with having him purchase something ridiculous. Even if it meant making Megatron hold a damn barstool on the drive home.

As expected the bar was smokey and smelled of old wood. Better than stale beer and piss as Starscream feared. And he would admit, upon immediate inspection, the bar held a simple charm. Clean tables and chairs, few occupied by bodies cast in dim light from overhead gold lamps. Posters and LED shapes tacted to the walls while wide ceiling fans lazily circled above - each blade painted with a pin-up girl blowing a kiss. Classy. 

The bar at least appeared well stocked, familiar bottles which Starscream could recognize as they approached. Sidestepping a few tables where scattered patrons spoke in low voices and tried their best not to look up at the expensive suits strolling in. Starscream not able to stop himself from baring teeth at a dusty old man who seemed confused at his appearance.

“Mixmaster.” Megatron reached out a hand as the bartender took notice, brightened, and shook in return.

“That cannot be his name.” Starscream complained to the side, already leaning over the bar with the confidence that got his skinny ass through school with minimal troubles. The bartender took one look at him and then Megatron and nodded.

“You want the usual Sir?” He seemed excited. “I do have a few new recipes I think you’d like. You see I started with pure grain and…”

“Excuse me,” Starscream, hating being ignored, turned himself to address the bartender with the stupidly on-point name. “I don’t know what the “usual” is and whether or not I’ll like it. Please direct all questions of order to me. Megatron is just paying.” He took a moment to appreciate that the bartender’s arm was thicker than his own thigh. Blatantly sizing the man up from what he could see over the bar. “Thank you, handsome.” 

“The usual is fine.” Megatron physically put his body between them, trying to herd Starscream off his perch with a frown. “You’ll like it.”

“If you make me drink cheap beer I won’t wait to kill you in your sleep tonight.” He noticed Mixmaster put two and two together and darken with a flush. Starscream gave him a wink just to make Megatron glance over his shoulder and whatever expression he wore brought the bartender to jump. 

“I uh..I’ll get right on that.” Mixmaster ducked down and began moving bottles about while Megatron took Starscream by the arm, leading him further down the bar and stopping just short of the double doors towards the kitchen.

“Behave yourself.” Warned, but there was the smallest frazzle to him. Ah, jealousy looked so sweet on his noble face. 

“I’m just being friendly.” Teased, deciding not to struggle against Megatron’s grip which seemed to tighten slightly. In return, Starscream checked his watch for how much time he had left (27 minutes). “Bring people here often?” Curious, honestly. This place wasn’t somewhere he imagined Megatron to frequent with his obsidian and steel aesthetic. He had a reputation to maintain in Iacon - and it was practically social suicide to linger in Kaon unless you were writing a charity a check.

Over Megatron’s shoulder Starscream noticed a weary poster, framed with Iacon’s cityscape with some hopeful phrase of a Prime past. It was almost insulting how glittering and perfect the promotion was considering what lurked in Iacon now was Megatron. 

“Not for a long time.” Megatron answers, voice lower than Starscream expected and it draws his eyes upwards. Surprising what dim light does for the man’s face structure. Somehow he’s even harder at the edges. Broad cheekbones that tuck into the corners of his lips. Firm, still mouth that only speaks when something needs to be said. Always so watchful, dark eyes taking in the other patrons of the bar with insight forged by unknown trials and Starscream thinks he really could hate Megatron if he wasn’t so fascinated by him. 

The dive bar is somewhere a man might go after long hours of hard work to relax. Drink a beer with friends and hide from the sunrise and the same back-breaking responsibilities that the new day would bring. He wondered when Megatron was last here - seemingly still friendly with the bartender. Who would he bring to such a place? Soundwave? That glorified secretary was always on Megatron’s arm - their comradery something old and well forged. It bothered Starscream for reasons unknown...

Their drinks arrive with a case of beer that cause Starscream to throw a fit when Megatron shoves the cans into his arms and tells him to “march”. Motioning with twin glasses of almost violet liquor towards the double doors. Megatron still has his keys so Starscream follows bitterly adjusting the cold, wet six-pack in his arms. Trying to keep up as Megatron moves through the small kitchen. Knowing the path too well he doesn’t even bother waiting for Starscream before ascending a stained staircase. His figure vanishing in shadows as he goes. 

“Oh look.” Starscream’s tone was purposefully bland once he reaches the top and Megatron props the door open behind them. “It’s a fucking roof. Romantic.” It was just that. The rooftop framed with a brick parapet, cement brushed with a black river shine from the rain still dripping from the midnight sky. A rusted metal awning stretched across half the rooftop, poorly shielding three metal chairs and a table from the worst of the rain. But everything was still damp and cold as rooftops spill gray smoke from heaters across the Kaon skyline. Dark clouds and factory smog block out the stars and Starscream felt claustrophobic outside for the first time in his life and for a man who would never stop flying if a jet would stop running out of fuel: it’s hell.

“Here.” Megatron takes the beer, setting it down on the table to replace Starscream’s (now cold) hands with the glass of dark liquor which now looks black with the surrounding night. He must have looked as disgusted as he felt. “If you try it I’ll give you back your cigarettes.”

“You took them?” He instinctively pats down his jacket pocket to find that indeed the metal case was gone. “When did you--?” Impossible. Megatron had fat, slow, talent-less hands! Starscream should have noticed! (Well that was a lie. Megatron’s hands were anything but talent-less…)

“Try it.” He repeats and moves to brush rainwater from the nearest metal chair with a bare palm which was - strange to see. All of it. Megatron in a dive bar on the low end of town - pulling out his own chair without Soundwave brown nosing to do everything for him. Even Starscream had to pause from stopping Megatron: trained that nothing should inconvenience his employer. 

He watched Megatron open a beer with the snap of one hand and his world was blown.

“What’s in this drink and will cause me to lose my voice?” Starscream asks while examining the glass with a scientist’s gaze. Doing so left his side brushing Megatron’s hip and he stayed close when his employer rolled dark eyes and almost smiled.

“Only if I’m lucky.” Megatron reaches back, replacing his cheap can with the pint glass behind him, raised it in Starscream’s direction. “Cheers?” Their glasses give a harmonic _clink_ and Starscream dares to take the smallest taste.

And regrets it immediately.

It burns on his lips, his tongue. His voice rasping when he swallows and the scalding liquor taste burns his stomach into a knot. He scrambles to grab Megatron’s beer, needing something to wash it down and hopefully out of his system, all while Megatron laughs slow and unsympathetic. He almost gags on the sour taste of beer but it was less heinous of a punishment than whatever it was Megatron just had him try! Swallowing mouthfuls in desperate hope of relief from the acid burn across his tongue.

“Slow down,” Megatron reaches to tilt the can back and Starscream barely stops a very un-adult hiss from escaping his mouth. “It’s something you get used to.”

“Why would I want to get used to that?!” Spat and licks his mouth hoping to scrape the remnants of the taste from himself. “If you enjoy that clearly you’ve been poisoned. Brain damage. It finally all makes sense.” He glares something fierce at the glass mocking him from the damp table. Starscream felt the impulse to swat at it. 

“I do seem to enjoy things that want to kill me.” Megatron comments, settling back into the chair uncaring of the rainwater still on the surface. “What’s our time?” 

Starscream checks his watch. They had less than fifteen minutes. “Twenty minutes.” If Megatron knew he lied - his expression showed nothing.

“Then sit down, enjoy the view.” He motions almost sarcastically to the gray and black night of nothing but monstrous shapes of factory spires in the distance. Starscream held his beer in two hands, sick with the taste but sipping to ensure nothing of the previous burn returned. 

“It’s all wet.” Whines looking at the second chair. Megatron gave him a look. “Well it is! And you might be fine getting rust and water all over you I’m not--” A quick hand tugs on his jacket, drawing him in until Starscream stood between Megatron’s wide, thick legs speckled with dirt and rain water. Another firm tug and there was no need to guess what Megatron was suggesting. “You old pervert.” He refused to sit, drinking the beer like a man who wasn’t dying at the taste to avoid the indignity of sitting on his boss’ lap. (In public, at least.) “You really bring me to the nicest places.” 

“Fine.” Megatron stands and for a minute he thought maybe they could leave, abandon the mystery of “what the fuck” to another day. But instead Megatron sheds his coat and lays it back in the second seat, motioning for Starscream to sit. “There. Now you can’t complain.” 

“Oh. A gentleman.” He ducks before Megatron could swat the back of his head, sinking into the (warm) fabric and trying to ignore the uncomfortable shape metal beneath him. “Was that so hard?” The grind to Megatron’s teeth said ‘yes’ but Starscream set aside the beer and pressed fingertips to the man’s wrist while he was still in reach. “Now, why the hell are we in Kaon instead of a five star hotel with room service. Or my personal favorite, my home where my bed is. You know it pretty well by now, isn’t it a bit nicer than...” He waves hands a bit to motion to the entire world - until Megatron frowns, possibly pushing too much after the almost kind gesture. 

“Honestly though,” He presses and Megatron seems distant just briefly, glancing off to the dark skies and cold summer breeze preparing to welcome the imminent beginnings of Fall. 

“Does there always need to be an ulterior motive?”

“Yes. Always.” Starscream nods a touch emphatically. It seemed to amuse Megatron. “Just. Tell me.” Glances at his watch, nine minutes. “You have twelve minutes.” 

“I used to live two blocks from here when I was a younger man.” 

Oh. That’s not exactly what Starscream was expecting.

“The man Mixmaster took over for used to pay me to sweep after hours. Keep any change I found, took home whatever was left in the kitchen. If I needed somewhere to spread my books out while I was in school - I had the whole bar until they opened.” He took a drink of the purple liquor without a flinch and shifted from Starscream’s gaze. A recognizable sign of discomfort as Starscream realized Megatron was willingly sharing with him. 

Not that Starscream believed there wasn’t a thick dossier in Soundwave’s officers filled to the brim with his own personal information, but there was practically no information on Megatron. Public or otherwise past his graduating class and rise to the titan of Iacon as the world knew him. 

Once or twice Megatron’s notably Tarnish accent slipped past. Usually on late, exhausting nights in the office or early mornings struggling to wake in Starscream’s bed. It was something Starscream knew better than to mention. He only knew what happened to the city from his history books and even then the tales of riots and domestic bombings felt murky. _The siege of Unicron_ a distant mark on the dead city. But those writing history chose the hero and left the citizens of Tarn as a disgraced and dangerous smear of history.

“This is actually my business. I own it now. One of the first financial splurges after Decepticon became a self-reliant entity.” Megatron was certainly proud of the venture, almost glowing when he spoke. “It’s a money pit. But it’s mine.” Starscream wonders about the bar’s missing name and if that was Megatron’s choice to leave it empty.

Thankfully Megatron did not look to Starscream with expectation of an equally earnest response, and neither would be fooled into thinking this moment would exist past this rooftop. This information would wash away like the scent of alcohol on their skin by morning. 

But still. It was nice to have.

“I brought you here because I wanted to. Simple. No motive, no tricks. Nothing you need to grow paranoid over.” He knew Starscream too well. “It is a place I like to be, and it is nice to be here with company. Even for one drink.” Megatron finishes the heinous drink with a long swallow and Starscream swears something like sludge follows at the bottom of the glass. Yes. Certainly not drinking any more of that crime. 

Then there’s Megatron looking noble and kind beneath the black cloudy sky. Hair the same mixture of black and gray, his suit pale and soft looking as his eyes. It’s stupid really. Starscream had only intended to sleep with his boss, have fun and maybe gain a better parking space for his work. Better yet cause his parents to roll in their graves, and regret not following through on their threat to disown him.

Instead he’s sitting in a wet chair on the roof of a shitty bar. Listening desperately to Megatron as he reveals nothing in particular about himself. Idle memories and the smallest glimpse of what created this titan.

Megatron has touched him with hands rough with overworked palms. Has laid over his body with skin slashed and battered with scars tangling across the surface like lightning or wild fire - and it drives Starscream mad he doesn’t know the story to each and every one.

“I believe our time is nearly up.” Megatron announces, looking at his own leather banded watch for confirmation.

“I said twelve minutes.” 

“You were lying.” Megatron raises a brow. 

“Yes I was.” Starscream uses a trick from college to open another can of beer with the underside of his father’s ring. It's two sizes too large but Starscream will never have it adjusted. He pulled it off the man’s corpse when he lay in the open casket, ignoring the horrified look of the priests and the lawyers. “And since I won’t touch that hellish concoction - and that beer was yours technically: This is my first. And I was promised a drink.” 

“Ah,” Megatron appears, perhaps surprised by the statement, but nonetheless accepting of the change in rules. “I can’t argue with that.” 

\---

By the time the bar closes they have the eleven empty cans of beer lined up on the waist high wall keeping them from toppling off the roof. Starscream’s mouth was partly numb with the sixth purple “Gladiator” Megatron had Mixmaster bring up to them and the bartender had to ask permission to lock up and leave for the night.

To which Megatron said “no” and told him to wait downstairs in case they needed him further. Starscream found this impossibly funny considering the unfortunate bartender had to ask permission to go home while Megatron had Starscream in his lap and didn’t seem to know where to look - almost running into the propped door when he pouted down the stairs. Starscream then couldn’t contain his laughter, pressing his face into Megatron’s warm throat to stifle his indignant giggling while Megatron tried to shush him, while also chuckling deep in his chest. 

“It’s two am.” Starscream eventually noticed, holding Megatron’s hand in his own, examining the spots of white scar tissue over darker skin. Pressing his thumb into unmoving calluses that seemed like marble in a drunken Seeker’s gaze. “And I cannot drive us home.” 

“Hm.” Megatron’s throat made a sound but his closed mouth and eyes did not move until Starscream shifted in his lap, trying to stand. “Stop.” Wide spread hands were quick to close over Starscream’s hips, having shed his jacket, he felt the warmth through the silk shirt and rested his own grip on Megatron’s wrists. “Has it been thirty minutes already?” Starscream snorts, settling a knee on the bit of chair between Megatron’s legs. Leaning down to kiss a damp brow from alcohol and a humid cold night. 

“You have one minute left. Then I’m calling a cab and going home.” 

“One minute?” Megatron muses, tongue darting to wet his lower lip and Starscream remembers (with a sharp grin) that was exactly what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Drunk on a rooftop of Megatron’s oh-so-secret childhood. Left to drink and chat with his employer like this was entirely normal. Spend hours in drizzling rain until their bodies were soaked and clammy while Megatron pointed across a dark skyline. Able to still name businesses from his youth, old friends now dead, brutal stories of robberies or rambunctious games he and his college mates used to play.

Starscream absolutely hated he didn’t hear one word of it. Far too busy swimming in the alcohol haze and watching Megatron’s jaw move with each story as passionate as the last. The stretch of a damp shirt clinging across wide shoulders, the weight of him when Megatron laid a hand across his throat, just to hold on and follow his pulse. 

“What ever shall we do with one minute?” 

“Old man, you're insatiable.’

“Perhaps I’m looking for something specific to satiate me.” One eye creeps open with the question and Starscream pressed a hand over it.

“Oh, and what’s that?” Starscream huffs, feeling Megatron’s lashes flicker beneath his palm like a trapped moth.

“Don’t you know?” 

When he speaks it’s like a mountain sighing after a long sleep. Mouth brushing the delicate skin of Starscream’s wrist before great hands reach to pull Starscream across his lap. Legs spreading over the girth of Megatron’s hips and trying to find balance while the world shifted on sour liquor. Settling down in time for a mouth, sticky with alcohol, to find his. 

Starscream parts his lips obediently, seeking the familiar rasp of Megatron’s short beard against his chin - the demanding motion of his mouth as they fit together too perfectly. Cupping a jaw and shivering when tongues meet and the taste of the foul drink is almost sweet on Megatron’s mouth. It’s impossibly warm for the cold he feels on his arched back, bowed into Megatron’s torso, squeezing hips down against the thick midsection while broad hands press hard into his thighs and almost lifts him to draw him closer - distracted only by their mouths loudly sliding together in the gasping quiet of the night.

He swings arms around Megatron’s shoulders, desperate to drag him in. Roll against the hard muscle and unmoving shape of the man, claw at the edges of Megatron’s neck above the wrinkled collar. Breath catching in his throat when hard hands snake back down his hips. Squeezing his ass at the same time a shaky moan chases Starscream’s lips from Megatron’s sigh.

Dizzy while he can only smear his lips across the harsh ridge of Megatron’s cheek, bite the edge of his jaw where the pulse tickles his lip - hard enough that Megatron's grip bruises his thighs in reaction. The following growl like a warning before Megatron is pawing back down his legs, a blossoming heat pouring over Starscream’ torso and hips shaking where the man palms across his lap. The gentle chuckle surprising and hungry and liquor drenched that Starscream almost forgot where they were and what they were doing.

Almost.

“Hey-” Speaks into Megatron’s mouth, bumping his lip into a row of pale teeth. Heavy body rumbling beneath him, a complaint, and Megatron finds new focus licking Starscream’s pulse. Driving Starscream to dig nails against the man’s shoulders in the struggle to speak. Fighting with himself if he wouldn’t regret not letting Megatron just fuck him on a rusted, rain damp table. The weight and heat of smothering hands making it nearly impossible to think. “Wait-” He gasps, squeezing thighs around Megatron’s torso trying to ground himself. “Megatron - stop.” 

It shouldn’t be so easy to stop him. A single word almost lost on the brush of their lips, small and hesitant, but it stills Megatron like a plug ripped from the wall. Immediately the tense body goes still, hands freeze across the thighs and the way Megatron is looking at him Starscream believes might kill him.

No one has looked at Starscream that way before, and he means _no one_.

“You want to go home.” Not a question. Good. Megatron isn’t too drunk but his accent is slipping once more. 

Starscream uses his hands to reel the man’s skull back, kisses him soft and brisk while Megatron keeps talking. “Call a cab. I’ll have someone bring your car in the morning.” He sounded almost disappointed. “I can have Mixmaster take me home.”

“Are you stupid?” Starscream huffs, stroking quiet lines down Megatron’s cheeks, watching him like something might break if he looks away. Finding he is actively afraid something will break if he chances looking away.

He was just supposed to be screwing his boss...not whatever this was.

“If I call a cab you’re coming with me.” He kisses the damp brow quickly and feels Megatron’s hands struggle against his hips, uncertain what to do. “You’re not getting rid of me that quickly, you get to take care of my hangover tomorrow.”

“Oh?” He sounds tired, but the rush of warm air in the following sigh settles something worried in Starscream’s chest. Maybe he can feel the man smiling against his throat, maybe it’s his imagination. “I suppose it’s a worthy punishment.” 

\---

Megatron acts incredibly sober and restrained when the cab arrives.

It lasts fifteen seconds into their drive before Starscream has to adjust his position to keep his employer from falling over in the seat.

Never imagined he might have a higher alcohol tolerance than Megatron of all people...though Megatron did drink four of the sludge hell drinks and honestly Starscream wasn’t sure if two were safe to consume. 

Not that Starscream was anywhere near sober, but he had a terribly good poker face and when trying to keep your boss from falling over into your lap in public that was a good thing. He gives the driver his address and hopes Megatron doesn’t pass out before they arrive - as he is not going to carry his heavy ass upstairs and doubts he could get away with leaving him on the sidewalk. 

They're halfway to their destination before Starscream realizes he doesn't have Megatron’s coat.

“Where are my keys?” He flicks Megatron in the eye when the drunken behemoth of a man doesn't respond. “Megatron!”

“In my coat.” He grumbles, frowning with all of himself, trying to return to blissful rest against a cold car window. Starscream was going to strangle him. The night guard of his apartment building left at two am and he didn't have means of entry otherwise! A perfect way to round off the night it seems. 

Starscream digs through his own pockets for his phone, stabbing numbers while also redirecting the cab further across town. Promising him the clip of cash from Megatron’s pocket if he doesn't complain while his phone continues to ring. 

\---

Thundercracker meets them at the street, looking disheveled and more focused on helping Starscream peel Megatron out of the cab than yelling at his brother for the late night visit. Starscream doesn't even judge him for the dog slippers he's wearing in public in return for not asking questions. Wanting this embarrassing ordeal over with as soon as possible. 

“Primus Screamer, what did you do to him?!” 

“Shut up, he did this to himself!” Starscream almost drops Megatron on his face. “How was I supposed to know our boss was a lightweight?!” 

“Icanhearyou.” Megatron growls but struggles to get his legs steady, almost knocking the procession over in the hallway as Thundercracker manages to get the apartment door open. They spill inside and Megatron’s full weigh sends Starscream almost tripping into the wall, catching himself on Megatron’s shoulder and thankfully Thundercracker was busy trying to lead them back to the spare bedroom that he doesn’t notice Megatron trying to kiss his brother. 

Starscream is hardly gentle letting Megatron drop on the bed, watching his employer scrub what is likely a brewing headache beneath tired hands. He seemed miserable already. Good. 

Glancing over his shoulder to TC looking rather hesitant to speak. “What?” 

“Do you need---help?” He motions to basically all of their flushed and rain-drench employer and Starscream is too drunk to stifle the sharp twist of a possessive knot that’s lived in his gut for a few months now. He keeps Megatron from sitting up by placing a knee on his sternum and prays the man doesn’t get sick on him.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” He snaps without thinking and suffers Thundercracker’s quickly darkening face in response.. “Just bring me some clothes, I’ll handle this.” Starscream waves him off knowing his brothers are going to want to discuss this further by morning. He was too drunk for this, but still managed to pull himself together after Thundercracker brought him spare clothes. Even some oversized clothes (that were of course still too small) for Megatron just in case. Starscream doubted he’d be able to undress AND dress the man, but it was at least an option.

“For the love of--work with me here.” Tries not to yell hoping Skywarp manages to sleep through all of this. Tugging Megatron up by a shoulder and probably snaps a button fighting to get the damp shirt off him. He’s too big, Starscream thinks as he gets a thick arm free of a sleeve. (For the first time ever wishing the man was slighter instead of a salt and pepper behemoth) Megatron just slouches forward and seems content resting his brow against his shoulder. No longer fighting him but grumbling something under his breath that is likely threats. 

When Starscream goes to remove Megatron’s slacks the other makes a sloppy noise of disagreement. A short “not in the mood” before he manages to keep his eyes open long enough to seemingly realize what’s going on. Glassy focus darting between Starscream and the room, confused but not willing to admit it. 

“Just lift your hips.” Starscream lets him wonder and he falls off the bed tugging the last articles of clothes and really prays Thundercracker has fallen back to sleep by now. 

Starscream has never been a caretaker, never wanted to be. Threatening any who bullied his younger brother as children was one thing, but going out of his way to consider the comfort of another always seemed like too much work. He wasn’t interested and it made “tucking” Megatron, likely the most dangerous person Starscream has ever met, into bed all the more surreal. He didn’t know if he should have made him drink water first? Maybe stay awake until he was sure Megatron wasn’t going to be sick? Shit. Probably could have googled something. 

He changes in the clothes offered and ponders sleeping on the couch instead. By morning his employer was likely not going to be so happy being reduced to a drunken mess in Starscream’s mind...even worse now Thundercracker was a witness! Two people seeing Megatron sloppy and weak, did he just sign their death warrant?! 

“You’re giving me a headache thinking so hard.” Megatron’s voice sounds a touch more clear than before, heavy hand coming to rest on the small of Starscream’s back. It startles him, brings Starscream to whip around in the dark glaring at the lump of man in the bed. This was Sarscream’s old room actually when his brother's and he moved to Iacon, now little more than storage and action figures Warp hoards. A bizarre contrast to Megatron, naked beneath a cheap comforter, staring up at him with glassy eyes. Arm extended and Starscream can see the glint of white scars across the exposed skin. “Lay down, that’s an order.” 

“Ordering me? In your condition?” He snarks and regrets it immediately. Maybe Megatron will forget this whole night and they can go back to just sleeping together when bored business trips take their toll?

“Starscream.” Firmer now, more like his terrible boss and Starscream surrenders. Moves to tug another blanket around himself and with Megatron’s arm stretched across the bed he has little choice but to nestle alongside the man. Settling for a shoulder as his pillow while Megatron brings his arm down until fingers reach the edge of Starscream’s hairline. 

“Don’t snore in my face.” Starscream warns just to argue so the moment doesn’t feel as sickly uncomfortable as it was. A strange tangled sensation across his belly, like anxiety but worse. Far too similar to joy. “And don’t try to kiss me in the morning, your breath is going to be terrible!” 

Megatron just sighs and Starscream can feel a laugh rumble beneath his cheek. 

“Of us, I’m not the one who snores.” Megatron almost smiles when Starscream kicks him in the leg.

\---

He wakes with a start upon realizing Megatron was not in bed. Apparent when one was missing a great warm shape you’ve been tucked into all night.

The pillows he used still remained, the blanket still wrinkled and smelling like traces of his cologne and sweat: but no Megatron. Starscream spills out of the bed, tripping down the hall towards any sign of life. His brothers, fully dressed and un-surprised, going about their day as if the devil was not on the loose.

“Where is he?” 

“Your boyfriend?” Skywarp’s smiling and it takes years of practice not to punch him. TC rests a hand over Warp’s mouth just in case.

“He left pretty early. Soundwave showed up at seven a.m., had clothes and everything. You slept through it.” He explains and Skywarp mutters about wishing he could have “slept through it” likely having been woken by their early morning visitor. Starscream had to move around the two, glancing at the clock in the kitchen to see it was well past one in the afternoon and couldn’t believe it. 

“Your phone was dead, so he left a message.” Skywarp seemed to read the room and withdrew the worst of his smile. “Basically not to worry about your car, and he’d see you at the office tomorrow. Even gave us the day off so we could keep an eye on you.” 

“So I guess I should be relieved that you didn’t drink and drive.” Thundercracker said with all the _dad_ tone his voice could manage. All three of them knowing the statement meant much more as phantom pains swelled at the thought. “But whenever you feel like it, I think we need to have a little talk.” 

“My favorite.” Starscream laments and proceeds to collapse hungover and dizzy in the nearest chair. 

It took an embarrassingly long time to convince his brothers that he was not dating Megatron. Which seemed to upset them. Thundercracker especially who spent thirty minutes looking up sexual harassment claims and wouldn’t listen to Starscream’s reassurance that it was consensual. Skywarp had to remind TC that “if Starscream was being blackmailed don’t you think Screamer would be getting more out of it?” before he calmed down and it was Starscream’s turn to be upset. 

They’d had a similar conversation before when a gala came around and he’d thrown a fit about Megatron’s date of choice...but it seemed neither brother had expected things to turn out as they had. Fine. He didn’t need their blessing or anything, it was actually just sex. So long as Megatron knew that: they were fine. Last night was a mishap. Nothing to remember except for the regret he hadn’t recorded anything to use as leverage against his employer later. 

What a shame.

Then TC had to ask “Are you happy with just sex?” and Starscream was quick to head home not willing to travel down that emotional rabbit hole. Just because Thundercracker and Skywarp had been together since they met as children didn’t mean Starscream had to suffer those romantic ideals. 

He had once, that was enough for a lifetime. 

As promised his car had been returned to his apartment lot and the front desk had his keys. Glad to be home, he showered and sulked most of the day. Nursing the hangover and building sense of dread as the day went on. There was no telling how Megatron will react to the previous evening. Starscream didn’t like being embarrassed but it was going to be an experience seeing Megatron handle it. 

He considers messaging him in the later evening, sprawled across his living room couch and watching the rain return outside. He instead tried to search the history of the bar, but found without a name he couldn’t do much more than guess wildly...and there were so many bars in Kaon his research ended before it really began. Perhaps forgetting it was really his only option? If his affair with Megatron was to end because of one night of drinking too much and not because of bad sex - or worse - Starscream should consider himself lucky. 

Sober, Megatron claimed to have wanted Starscream there. Who knew how the morning might change that?

\---

Soundwave is standing over Megatron’s shoulder when he’s summoned to the office. The “assistant from hell” scarcely acknowledges him, continues directing Megatron’s attention to something on the thick stack of paperwork laid out across his mammoth of a desk. Starscream figured it wouldn’t take long for Megatron to summon him, but first thing in the morning? His brothers were already blowing up his phone with interested messages, TC even offering an escape plan. Needless to say Starscream hadn’t slept much and was further annoyed that Megatron seemed entirely fine. Pressed suit and neatly combed hair. Brushed and polished as any day and so unlike the flushed and laughing man who had taught Starscream to skip rocks off a rooftop parapet because Starscream didn’t believe you could. 

“That will be all Soundwave, thank you.” He dismisses and Soundwave takes their leave, side eyeing Starscream on their way out. Starscream just curls his lip in response before Megatron could see.

“You wanted to see me?” Somehow this was more awkward than coming to work after sleeping with Megatron the first time. How did that work? 

“Yes,” Megatron doesn’t look up from the work Soundwave had left on his desk. He checks something on his computer and leaves Starscream waiting. “Will you be comfortable presenting your work on the null ray cannons in a weeks time? There’s been some hesitation on the contractor’s end and I don’t want to delay any progress.” 

“Shouldn’t be a problem, I’ll need to delegate office work down a rank.” 

“Good. Soundwave has been assigned to grant support where needed,” For the first time Megatron looks him in the eyes and he’s reminded how dangerous he found the man upon meeting him for the first time. How much of that first impression had encouraged Starscream to sign with Decepticon. “I hope you two can play nice.” 

Starscream shakes off recalling Megatron tugging him into his lap on a wet rooftop, laughing and kissing him as if that were something they simply did. 

“So long as they stay out of my way.” He agrees, tries for his usual dose of arrogant confidence, but whatever came out instead made Megatron click his tongue behind his teeth. “Is that...all?” Waiting for the other shoe to drop, or perhaps that would come later. Maybe Megatron would stop asking to get a drink with him - or Starscream would finally use that second hotel room.

“One more thing...one of the restaurants I partially own is hosting a performance troupe for a special evening. Some form of interpretive dance or,” Megatron waves his hand in dismissal. “Whatever street ballet is popular now. I’ll be inviting several of our project partners and will need a date.” Starscream has never heard that word come out of his mouth. Usually it’s “company” or “engagement”, never date. Too personal. For some reason his spine goes stiff but his stomach flips - and he can’t even blame a hangover. “If you’d be interested in a night of free food, pretentious entertainment and keeping me from stabbing a partner in the eye with a fork, I’d like for you to join me.” 

Despite the way his chest is tightening, Starscream manages to scoff in his usual manner.

“This better be nicer than the bar.” He chances bringing up the night before, curious to Megatron’s reaction. 

Megatron doesn’t flinch, if anything, his face softens and he looks human for once. 

“Quite nicer. But it is vegan.” 

“I’d rather go to the gross bar.” Groans and is pleased to note Megatron looks amused in response. Perhaps they're not ruined after all.

“But fine. I guess I can spare the time. Send me the details and I’ll send you the bill for the outrageously expensive suit I plan on buying.” 

Megatron sits back at his desk, comfortable in the throne he’s built and looks Starscream over with open interest. Brow quirked, clearly trying to read something in his answer - left guessing and maybe a smile nudges against the corner of his mouth.

The sight of it is absolutely Starscream’s favorite thing in the entire world.

“Anything you want, Starscream.”


End file.
